I Won't Pick Up The Phone
by RogueAlly
Summary: All is not as it seems.


Title: I Won't Pick Up the Phone

Summary: All is not as it seems.

Author's Note: Yes, there's a sequel. No, it's not finished. To see the first couple chapters go the the Wolverine and Rogue Fanfiction Archive and look under my penname there, Ally.

The ringtone she wasn't expecting to hear jarred her out of a deep contemplation of the gold-and-white-pinstriped wallpaper in front of her. Rogue rolled onto her other side, forgetting that she didn't care about the particular phone call anymore, and scooped up her cell phone from her antique-white nightstand. The glowing screen shouted the caller's identity as if the ringtone alone wasn't enough. She stared at the name, wondered if she should answer. On the third ring, just before the call would be sent to voicemail, she swiped the screen to answer just like she always did, before she could change her mind.

"Hello, Logan," Rogue said, bring the phone to her ear.

"Hey, darlin'." There was a long pause, more awkward on his part than hers, then he asked, "How's everything there?"

Rogue let the silence build for a few moments, then a few more. "Gee, Logan, Ah'm not sure where to start. There's so much to catch up on after six months." She let the false cheer ring in her voice, deliberately mocking him.

"Marie…"

"No. Don't you 'Marie' me. It's not like it's the first tie you haven't bothered to let me know if you were even alive for so long. Ah told you last time you called that Ah need more. Just once a week. That's all Ah fucking asked. Just one damn day a week, remember that Ah'm here waiting. Ah didn't ask you to come back, although anyone in their right mind would think you would feel the need to see your girlfriend more than once every couple of years. All Ah wanted was a call. Why the fuck is that so difficult?" she asked harshly. Her voice rose with each word, but the final question came out in a whisper, almost against her will.

He didn't answer right away, which gave Rogue time to remember the last two and a half years and why she had every reason to be angry at him, to be hurt. Three years ago he had come back. She was nineteen by then, in college, and in full control of her mutation. After a month or two of heavy flirting, they had fallen into bed together. Sex was followed by a few dates, more sex, and before you knew it they were considered an "item" at Professor Xavier's School for the Gifted, almost as much a standard of "successfully establishing a normal life" as Jean and Scott Summers. Then, just as Rogue was getting used to "me" being less important than "us," suddenly Logan left. He didn't really explain why, but she assumed that the Professor was sending him somewhere and that he would be back within a week. So much for assumptions.

One week became four, one month became months. At first he called her every few days to let her know he was okay, but he was still vague on his "mission." Then it was once a month, and when Rogue went to the Professor to find out some details on when he would be back the older man wasn't sure what she meant. Apparently Logan had left for reasons of his own after all. At the end of the first year the time between calls stretched to two months, then four. The last time he called was when she told him that she needed more. She was tired of having a relationship with someone who wasn't even there.

Now it was time to let him know that she hadn't been bluffing, but before she could say as much he broke the uneasy silence. "Marie, I'm sorry. Look, I'll make it up to you as soon as I get back. I swear—"

Rogue laughed, a hollow sound lacking in any mirth. "Sure, as soon as you get back. And just when will that be? One more month? A week? A day? Ah doubt it. Ah'm done, Logan. You're not sorry, you never have been, and Ah was stupid enough to believe that you actually wanted me. Ah told you Ah couldn't keep going on like this. Ah meant it. Ah found someone else, someone who Ah can see every day, who doesn't run away when things get hard," she said, perhaps unfairly. After all, in the end she didn't have a clue why he left in the first place.

She had practiced the last part over and over for months, from once a day to several by that point, so that he wouldn't hear the lie.

"Someone else?" Logan's voice was dangerously quiet, but she wouldn't let that intimidate her. She remembered all the things he had missed, especially in the last few weeks.

"Yes," she stated firmly. "He's new, a team member Scott persuaded to join up. He appreciates me, and he's been getting more persistant. Ah wanted to make sure you knew we were over before Ah agreed to go out with him. So you don't need to bother calling again. Ah won't pick up the phone anymore." She was making up all of this on the fly, but it sounded good so she kept going.

To her disappointment there was no growling, no swearing, no shouting on his end. Instead, she heard him sigh. A small, hurt part of her wondered if it was a sigh of relief. She pushed down the feeling, did her best to deny it.

"Fine," was all he said. Then there was no sound, and Rogue pulled the phone from her ear to see that the call had disconnected.

The tears came, just a few, when she realized how easy it had been after all. Logan hadn't even put up a fight, tried to convince her that they could work it out, or even protested a bit. Just the short acknowledgement and then he was gone.

"You needed to do it, chica," Rogue's best friend, Jubilee, told her. She gave Rogue and encouraging hug.

Rogue closed her eyes and tried to find her balance again, to smother the anger, pain, and grief that threatened to overwhelm her until she was stronger, strong enough to deal with it. This final loss of her hopes and dreams, while not unexpected, was a crushing blow on top of everything else.

"Ah know, Jubes. Ah just didn't think it would hurt so much after all this time," she whispered, burrowing into the comfort of Jubilee's support as much as she could. "Maybe Ah should have told him, though."

"He didn't care enough to call until now, even after you practically begged him last time. Why should you have told him a damn detail about your life now?" Jubilee asked angrily. Rogue knew she just hated seeing a friend hurt. Jubes was overprotective like that.

"Maybe he would have understood…" Rogue said weakly. It was an argument similar to many they'd had over the past week, one she couldn't escape no matter how much she wanted to.

"Sure he would have, and he might even have come back for a while. But you and I both know Mr. Big-and-Growly wouldn't stay for long no matter what. It's not his style," Jubilee said derisively.

For once Rogue didn't try to deny it, and the echo of Logan in her head wasn't adding any of the usual reassurances to the contrary. She sighed heavily and sat up. It was time to get up and get ready for the day anyway. Jean said it was good for her to get back into routine.

A yellow and green top and jeans waited on the comfortably stuff chair crammed in next to her bed, a stark contrast to the bright blue upholstery that she would normally never have picked out. It was a good outfit, a compromise like many things in her life lately. She let her eyes wander around the room, taking in the unfamiliar furnishings packed in among her own, another concession.

Three weeks ago, a wall collapsed on Jubilee and herself during a mission. Rogue's mutation was active at the time, and she was knocked unconscious just as Jubilee was thrust on top of her by the falling rubble. By the time their teammates unburied them, Rogue had completely drained her best friend, something she didn't realize when she first woke from a two-week coma because Jubilee was chattering to her just like normal about how she had to get better. Rogue was still adjusting to having Jubilee living in her head. The other X-Men had done their best to help her adjust, but at first Rogue only wanted one person with her, the one she couldn't have. The previous months of disillusionment coupled with Jubilee telling her over and over in her head how futile her wishes were had eventually bolstered her resolve to end her relationship with Logan.

A tiny, very tiny, part of her that she hid from Jubilee still wondered how differently she would have felt if he had only _tried_.

Logan strained his neck up to watch the figure across from him snap shut the cell phone and turn back towards him. He scowled into eyes that mirrored his own at first but quickly flashed yellow as she resumed her true form. He would have spat on her if it weren't for the gag in her mouth, would have ripped the blue bitch to shreds if not for the thick steel bands strategically and seamlessly holding down his arms and legs.

"Well, well, _Logan_. It looks like you and your little girlfriend are through. I almost can't believe it took so long—she's been sickeningly devoted to you these long two years, hasn't she? I've had such a difficult time not ending it myself. If only you had cooperated from the beginning. We all could have what we wanted right now. Tell me, are you ready to say yes yet?" Mystique asked him casually.

Logan turned his head to the side to indicate no. He also wanted an excuse to stop looking at her mocking face. He didn't want to see her reveling in his pain.

"Too bad," Mystique said, clucking her tongue. "Well, you'll be glad to know that we have found a replacement for you at last. She should be able to perform the task just fine. Of course, that means we won't need you anymore. Eric is looking into ways of disposing of you despite that annoying mutation of yours. I'm sure you've realized that we can't continue keeping you this way now that we have an alternative to meet our needs. I'll leave you alone to think about the many very unpleasant ways you might be dying soon." He saw her blow him a kiss out of the corner of his eyes before she strolled off.

Logan turned his head back to watch her leave. Once he was sure he was gone, he rested his head on the cool metal bed he was stretched out on and closed his eyes against the glare of the florescent light overhead. A single tear made its way out the corner of one eye and left a wet trail down his bearded cheek.


End file.
